To the Younger Generations,
May you accomplish what we have failed to do.
How I dream old friend,
Of a world that can mend,
Broken pure hearts,
Reconnecting scattered parts.
A world that knows no destruction,
But only knows construction.
Love seeds sowed all around,
Hatred, no longer found.
We’re no longer bound,
To sorrows of the past,
Nor are we downcast.
I dream day and night,
To my dreams’ light,
I escape from reality’s darkness,
I search for goodness,
For warmth and beauty,
Whose finding is a sacred duty.
It’s a world possible to reach,
A world I will never cease to preach.
This dream my friend,
Your life will surely end.
It’s like a rose amidst the desert,
It won’t live, so save your effort.
Such dreams are destined to perish,
Such dreams, people don’t cherish.
You shall be forsaken by the majority,
Belittling your strife will be their priority.
I hate to see your heart,
Getting torn apart,
By reality’s blunt knife.
So don’t waste your life,
Let the world be,
It won’t change, believe me.
Faraway, from beyond a mountain,
Came running a bunch of children,
Chasing their loose kite, shouting ‘FLY,’
Their eyes attached to the sky,
Their hopes aimed so high,
All odds, insisting to defy,
Trying to outrun the wind,
And their dream defend,
With magnificent persistency,
With perfect consistency.
While the elders continued to debate,
The youngsters overlooked the bate.
They carried out the task,
Without a question to ask.
They strove with a pure passion,
Seeking to make the impossible happen.